


Love is Sweet

by Sissy2D



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baking, Brock Rumlow is a shit, Competition, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Endearments, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Mutual Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sissy2D/pseuds/Sissy2D
Summary: What was he doing?It was crazy to want to compete and win a place in the Annual Entrepreneurs Fair of his high school, where the big prize would be to finance the opening of a small business. That day would be filled not only with its teachers and directors, but also with people genuinely interested in the innovative ideas of the students, with the promise of contributing financially to fulfilling their dreams.Several laughs and murmurs reached his right ear, (of which he still had 50% hearing), saying things like:A loser.A nobody.A queer.Discreetly, he readjusted his hearing aid in his left ear, lowering the volume to drown out the offensive comments. That kept him standing in line for another 15 minutes.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	Love is Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [El amor es dulce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794691) by [Sissy2D](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sissy2D/pseuds/Sissy2D). 



> I HAVE HAD THE MOST STRESSFUL WEEKS ever, so... this is the result of me coping with life.  
> Yeah...Life has been rough, and I found no other way to blow off some steam but to write this.  
> Let's consider this one-shot, a little bit self-indulgent, but still I hope you like it.  
> Warning: there are moments in which Steve gets verbally abuse, and at the end, a scene with violence towards Steve’s baking goods.  
> THANK YOU to @thewaythatwerust for the incredible beta work and to erin (velociraptorerin) for the cheers!

Steve had never felt so insecure about his height or physical appearance. He was barely 5’4,and being surrounded by people taller than him (so close) made him feel intimidated. His thinness was to be considered, and although he ate regularly, he never managed to look healthy. He was pale thanks to his Irish heritage from his mother's side, and his big blue eyes tried to shine despite being hidden behind big dorky frames.

What was he doing?

It was crazy to want to compete and win a place in the Annual Entrepreneurs Fair of his high school, where the big prize would be to finance the opening of a small business. That day would be filled not only with its teachers and directors, but also with people genuinely interested in the innovative ideas of the students, with the promise of contributing financially to fulfilling their dreams.

Steve was quite reserved in his tastes and convictions, even more so with his abilities and "gifts". The only one who knew of his "gift" in the kitchen making cakes and other desserts, was his friend Sam Wilson.

It was actually Sam who pushed him to sign up before the deadline that week.

_Who knows, Rogers._ _Maybe you can win._ He was surely joking, Steve thought at first, but Sam was very insistent… trying to convince him to make up his mind once and for all and go for it. _It will be like the Shark Tank show, you know? You have the talent, you just have to sell it, and voila! You’ll be a businessman, empowered and-_ Steve had punched him lightly on the shoulder to shut him up, and they cracked up.

Finally, he took Sam’s advice and there he was… lining up to register.

Several laughs and murmurs reached his right ear, (of which he still had 50% hearing), saying things like:

A loser.

A nobody.

A queer.

Discreetly, he readjusted his hearing aid in his left ear, lowering the volume  to drown out the offensive comments . That kept him standing in line for another 15 minutes.

Not that he was very confident of winning first place (heck, not even second or third) however proving to himself that he could do it was more than enough. Also, who knows... maybe he  _ could _ win and start being  _ an entrepreneur _ as Wilson called him.

As the queue moved forward, he dreamed with his eyes wide open about what his place would be like: it would surely be small, but quite cozy, he would hang some paintings and sketches that he had made in his free time as decoration, he would have a couple of minimalist armchairs, some pendant lamps with warm light, and wooden stools at the main bar. The counter would display his pastries, freshly baked, and he would play instrumental music all day long, perhaps classical, or was  _ indie _ music trendy now?

"Hey! Aren't you going to move?" a harsh voice broke into his daydreaming.

Steve snapped back to reality after a sharp shove towards the registration table. Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward, and taking a deep breath, he straightened up and looked closely at the person behind the registration table. It was Carol Danvers.  _ Thank God!  _ Just thinking that it could be Rumlow or Rollins made his stomach twist. They were both bullies, with whom he’d frictions in the past, and ended up in the infirmary  with a black eye on more than one occasion

“Name?” Carol asked.

"Rogers, Steven Rogers," Steve said in a firm voice.

"Very good…Steven Rogers, tell me what kind of project are you going to compete with?"

"Eh, muffins?"  Steve felt his ears burn.

"Muffins? Are you doubting it or thinking it twice? You have to be very specific, Rogers,” Carol explained without losing it.

“No, uh, I'm saying I'll be competing with muffins- with pastries- desserts," he floundered.

Danvers was writing down the information on a slip of paper, and as she did so, Steve looked around. The electrical engineering room was the least suitable place to have many people lining up, full of cables, clamps, panels and computers among other equipment that Steve didn’t recognize, and without air conditioning in the summer, it was kind of  suffocating.

Suddenly, he heard the door swing open and slam against the wall.

"Hey Danvers, are you done? I need you to give me a hand with this,” someone yelled at the top of their lungs.

Steve turned his head toward the source of the sound so quickly that his glasses almost fell to the ground. Damn these loose frames. He had to perch them up his nose every single time!

_ Oh God. It was Bucky Barnes. _

Bucky Barnes, carrying what looked like an assembled computer with black and blue wires hanging from it.

Bucky Barnes with his 6’0 slim body frame, muscles in his arms and thighs.

Bucky Barnes with his mischievous grin, blue-gray eyes, and wavy chocolate-colored hair pulled up in a half ponytail.

_ That  _ Bucky Barnes, head of the senior’s engineering group, and who was said to have many opportunities if he applied to study at the famous MIT.

"Give me a break, will you? They put me in the registry booth today,” Danvers replied.

"Who!?" Bucky sounded annoyed.

"You know damn well who. His last name starts with an F and is a synonym of rage!" Carol yelled ending the conversation.

Carol finished his slip, peeled the bottom off and handed it to Steve , keeping his registration number and other details.

As he was leaving, Steve could see the silhouette of Bucky in the corridor,  trying to juggle the assembled computer among other things that he must have picked up before leaving the room.

Steve sighed, and shook his head.

Barnes would probably  _ never _ give him a sideway glance.  _ Ever _ . With his slip still in his hand, Steve left the school and waited for the bus to take him home. It was about 4:00 pm, which gave him time to do his homework and relax before he could think about his desserts for the competition, and decide how to decorate his booth.

By the end of the day, he thought about keeping things simple. There was no need to be stressed so far. He did a lot that morning just by signing up for the competition.

* * *

Two weeks before the Entrepreneurship Fair, Steve was a mess. He had written in a notebook the possible desserts that he could make to win over the judges and yet, he considered none of them worthy.

6 days before the event, Steve had the setup, a simple stand: made from a small, white varnished wooden structure which would be covered with canvases featuring his logo, his watercolor flags would hang from the 4 posts of the structure, and a sturdy plastic tablecloth (which he painted himself) would cover the plank that would serve as a table.

_ Good thing I had taken the wood workshop last year!  _ He thought.

The hardest thing now, was thinking about his  _ goodies. _

After a lot of research on sites like Pinterest, he decided that he would take a risk with a variety of muffins: chocolate truffles, carrot with walnut ( _ those one would be glazed, he thought) _ , peaches with cream, lemon and  _ the _ famous jumbo-sized Rainbow Muffins- after all, they were in June, Gay Pride month (extra point for that). To top it off, he'd make some peanut butter brownies (surprisingly good after all the experimentation he did), and some cinnamon-sugar mini-donuts.

Steve spent hours in his mom's kitchen baking everything the day before the Fair. He took care of every detail, every single muffin round paper cups, every glazed muffin. He carefully cut the brownies and mounted them on disposable plastic trays that he also decorated with edible paint. It was quite ingenious. The mini-donuts were placed in transparent containers. Feeling optimistic, he thought he could even sell his desserts, so he bought cute little bags to wrap each one of his creations.

* * *

Steve was motivated and scared to death at the same time, and he looked forward to the next day.

By 3:00pm, Steve had arrived at his school's football stadium, where the other stands would also be set up. He had checked-in already at the entrance, and Sam was helping him get down the wooden frame from his truck when Brock Rumlow approached them.

"My, my, my… What do we have here? It's Steve 'Fairy' Rogers with his little, curious shop," Brock said mockingly.

“Why don't you leave him alone, Rumlow?"  suggested Sam.

"Oh yeah, who's tellin’ me to? You Wilson… you and who else? "  Brock straightened his back, puffing out his chest and taking his trademark bully stance.

"Hey, Rumlow, if you're here to get a  _ special discount _ on the Rainbow Muffins -that you will give to Rollins I’m sure- don't worry! I have a lot of those ones for sale-" Steve started to laugh heartily, and Rumlow's hands grabbed him by the lapels of his new shirt and brought him to his eyes level, leaving Steve on tippy toes.

"Hey, HEY! Rumlow, stop it! That’s enough!” Sam yelled, lunging at Rumlow, grabbing his arms and forcing him to let Steve go. "Get out of here before I call Fury and he gives you detention."

"Damn you, Rogers!” Brock said enraged, still trying to get Steve. “You will pay for this," he threatened pointing him with his finger but finally walking away, cursing.

"What an asshole! He will never change. How many times has he been in detention  _ just  _ this school year? Unbelievable!” Sam exclaimed.

Steve just nodded his head trying to fix the shirt Rumlow had pulled, and the glasses that were askew.

It was 4:00pm and Steve had a knot in his stomach. In half an hour the event would begin. It was just a matter of time, putting on your best face and selling your baking idea / talent to the jurors, and maybe selling a muffin, brownie or mini-donut to the attendees.

He felt restless, looking around to where other stands were placed; some of them were interesting, or had innovative things, some others… not so much.

Steve just thought that  _ if he won _ , he could start his business and help his mom with the household expenses.

He started daydreaming again, when, in the blink of an eye, Rumlow, Rollins, and Jasper Sitwell knocked over the wooden plank where his muffins and brownies were placed, once on the ground, they stepped on them until they were completely destroyed.

Steve's eyesight clouded and he left the booth to try and stop them, trying to save his desserts… but it was useless. The more he yelled and begged for them to stop, the more viciously they smashed his things. It was three against one.

He saw his wooden frame in pieces, and his napkins, and the wrapping bags were scattered on the grass…his colorful Rainbow Muffins smeared everywhere.

Steve refused to cry in front of everyone but it was really embarrassing. He felt so sad, so angry, so helpless...

“Are you selling them now, Rogers? I can buy everything. And since the merchandise is damaged you will have no choice but to sell them with a big discount, or even give them away…” Rumlow laughed sarcastically at Steve’s misfortune.

A tall shadow was approaching them. Steve hadn't realized that in the brawl he had lost his glasses, so it was difficult to see who it was until he heard the distinctive voice of Director Fury.

“Rumlow, what the hell have you done? Who do you think you are, huh? You know that this will have consequences, not only for you, but also for your friends over here. All three... TO MY OFFICE, NOW! " Fury yelled, walking away from the terrible scene.

Steve dropped to his knees, trying to fumble for his glasses. When he finally found them, he put them on and could see that barely a couple of feet from him, was a container of mini-donuts still closed. He grabbed it tightly, stood up, and ran.

He ran off the soccer field, not caring if he had an asthma attack.

He ran from the shame he felt just imagining the faces and the murmurs of the people around. T hey probably thought he deserved it.

He ran and didn't stop until he saw a bench outside the school and  slumped onto the bench . He finally allowed himself to cry. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the fingers of one hand while the other clutched his container full of sugared cinnamon mini-donuts.

His sighs and whimpers began to turn into an asthma attack. Taking an inhaler from his right pocket, he puffed 3 times and tried to control himself, however the tears would not stop. His heart was beating so fast and felt like it was breaking.

He tried one more time, taking a deep breath and trying to ease his mind.

Once his breathing was back to normal, he wiped his tears with his shirt sleeves, and put on his glasses.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately covered his face, expecting a blow or a pull.

“Hey, sorry… I didn't want to scare you… I just want to know if you're okay. I could see from afar what Rumlow did to you...I have no other intention than to know if you are okay, or if I can help you anyway, I swear." Bucky Barnes said softly.

_ OH MY GOD _ , Steve thought.  _ Bucky Barnes was here with him. Why? _

Steve blinked a few times, not believing his eyes.

Taking the initiative, Bucky sat very cautiously next to Steve, waiting for the blonde to form a word.

Steve readjusted his glasses and moved aside, putting some distance between them He was still holding his container of mini-donuts like a lifeline.

After a while, Bucky decided to speak."I'm Bucky," the blue-eyed boy said, extending his hand. "Bucky Barnes.”

"Yes, I know who you are." Steve hesitantly shook his warm hand. "My name is-"

“Steve, Steve Rogers. I also know who you are." Bucky smiled sincerely.

_ Really? It couldn't be that someone like Bucky Barnes knew who he was, much less was here with him to ensure his well-being, _ he thought.

Bucky laughed heartily. It was a very sweet laugh.“Well, I guess I  _ do _ know who you are and yeah…I'm here to make sure you're okay." Bucky replied.

_Good Grief!_ _Had he said it out loud instead of thinking it? Hopefully the earth would swallow him up._ Steve turned his head to avoid being seen.

“None of that, Steve, what happened on the football field was terrible, and unacceptable. Nobody has the right to bully others. Director Fury will take care of it. I hope they expel those three for good," Bucky muttered seriously.

_ HELL, he had done it again. His brain-mouth filter was damaged. _

He felt his cheeks getting warm. Despite that, he couldn't help but to turn his face once more and gaze at Bucky, thinking carefully about what he had said and, taking in Bucky’s beautiful face. Because…OH BOY! Was Bucky Barnes beautiful?

Bucky smiled again, looked down at the container, and asked:

"Are they still for sale?"

"Wh-what?"

"Your cinnamon mini-donuts." Without stopping smiling he said, "I'll buy them all, the whole container."

"You're not serious ..."

“Of course I am, I'm curious to try them anyway. I have been told that you are very good at this."

"By who?" Steve was clueless.

"Mmm, let's say we have a friend in common who has spoken wonders about your desserts.”

_ Sam. _

“Sam talks about me- my desserts with you? Steve felt the warmth in his cheeks creep down to his neck. He was surely as red as a tomato. Damn Irish complexion!

"Yep! About you  _ and _ your desserts, which has made me question myself all these years, why I had never approached you. It's funny, you know… Many times in 8th grade, I wanted to talk to you, and each time I cowered. In 9th grade, you started to be friends with Wilson and you two were inseparable. By 10th grade, I knew that my hope of befriending you was reduced to zero, as Wilson was taking up most of your time. Then last year, Wilson and I started talking during Science class. He was mainly talking about you and how gifted you were at baking things. I really tried to talk to you, but in the end, I couldn’t.I didn’t know why…” Bucky admitted, looking down at his lap.

"And- and did you figure it out? Do- do you know why?" Steve asked curiously, blushing at the same time.

"Hmm, because I’m an idiot," Bucky said quietly. Taking courage, his gaze fell on Steve's delicate features and tentatively brought his hand up to Steve’s cheek, gently caressing it with his knuckles. "But I would like to fix it... if you let me."

Steve was dumbfounded.

Bucky's hand did not stay still until it reached Steve's ear, mindful of his hearing aid, causing the blonde to close his eyes and take a sharp intake of breath.

"Hey Steve... Breathe for me, please, Stevie? Easy, hey... I won't force you to meet me if you don't want to, we can be... just acquaintances."

Steve's eyes snapped open, and before Bucky pulled his hand away, Steve grabbed it and held it up saying "Ye-yeah… I want to get to know you, Bucky."

Bucky smiled widely and brought Steve's hand to his lips, placing a small but gentle kiss that made Steve’s body shiver.

"I would like that." Bucky finished.

Standing up, he offered Steve his hand to help him. Once they were both standing, Bucky laced his fingers through Steve's, and lead him to the parking lot.

"Where are we going?” Steve asked.

“Well, what better way than to enjoy those donuts than with a coffee. I know a place nearby where they sell this delicious latte- "

"Like- like a date? Steve interrupted.

"Yes... yes, like a date"

“A date with  _ me _ … Why?"

Bucky stopped walking abruptly, and so did Steve. "Why shouldn't I want to go on a date with you, Stevie? I have  _ seen you _ from a distance for many years. I want a chance to go out with you. I  _ know _ \- thanks to Sam - you are adorable, and very intelligent, and- "

_ Sam! Sam was going to give him a ride home that afternoon, he'd forgotten. _

"But ... Sam 's planning to give me a ride home once I-"

"Call Sam and tell him that I’m taking you out for a coffee, and I’ll give you a ride home." Bucky explained his plan patiently, looking at Steve with tender eyes.

If-  _ at some _ point- Steve thought that Bucky was his crush (in fact Bucky  _ had been _ his crush since 6th grade) now he was  _ fully convinced _ that he would fall in love with him just like that. Bucky was so sweet, and patient with him, and looked at him with those eyes…

"Yeah, okay... let me take out my phone. Ok, here it is... let's see Sam, Sam, Sam's contact... Mmm dialing.... Sam- Sam! Hey listen, it was a pretty weird day and - yeah, yeah- I guess you knew about Rumlow, by the way where were you? Doesn't matter anymore, the fact is, I'm in the parking lot with Bucky...Yes, Bucky Barnes…and he has offered to drive me home. I know you'd said you’d take me, but- ” Sam cut him off on the other end of the line.

Steve was silent for a few moments, nodding his head as if Sam could see him. "Okay Sam, thank you. I'll call you later.” Steve hung up.

"All good?” asked Bucky, who never took his eyes off him.

Looking up and noticing the size and height difference for the first time, Steve nodded once more. "Yeah, all right.”

"Ok, sweetheart, let's go." Bucky said cheekily.

Steve felt like his face was going to explode and his heart to stop when he heard the pet name.

"What? Don't you like "sweetheart"? What about sweetness, then? No? Darling? Handsome? My sun & my moon? Baby? Babydoll-"

Steve felt his insides twist with each pet name.

"Buckyyyyy!" Steve punched him jokingly in the left arm trying to hide his face in the chest of the brunet.

Bucky took the chance to hug him tightly (including his container) and give his hair a light kiss; he couldn't help but laugh heartily when Steve squirmed, laughing, trying to get away, but not so much to break the embrace.

"Ok, ok, we'll have time for that... and more."

"Promise?" Steve looked up and asked with hope in his eyes.

"Cross my heart. I like you, Stevie. I  _ truly _ like you. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe—Bucky kissed Steve’s forehead—happy—kissed his nose—and loved.” Bucky lowered his head until his lips brushed Steve's, causing the blond to sigh.

Steve would have never imagined that the same day that Rumlow and his cronies humiliated him for all to see, he would also find love in Bucky, and maybe, just maybe... his love would erase all the unsavory moments in his life.

For now, he just agrees that “love is sweet.”

**Author's Note:**

> How did you like it?  
> Comments and kudos are more than welcome!  
> Did you know that...?  
> \- Originally the idea was developed in Spanish. (But I thought about giving the Fandom the English version of it...so here it is)


End file.
